


Until the sun implodes - ENG Ver.

by TeratologueEnHerbe



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Consensual Sex, Consensual Violence, First Time, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Partners to Lovers, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 22:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10671957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeratologueEnHerbe/pseuds/TeratologueEnHerbe
Summary: They survived everything together.The Outback. It's wildlife. Mortal heatwaves. Sandstorms. Acid rain. Junkers. Diseases. Starvation. Gangrene. Junkrat was more than once on the brink of madness, but he held on. Mostly on his bodyguard and loyal partner, Roadhog. They survived. Nothing could stand in their way.But, one year after their "fifty-fifty" deal, all hell broke loose when Junkrat's most feared situation finally hit him.His first heat.





	Until the sun implodes - ENG Ver.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first Fanfiction ever and it's a smutty Omegaverse one. Because I'm trash. And I friggin' love those two !  
> So I hope my English vocabulary and grammar doesn't make you blind ! Every little comment on any mistakes are more than welcome !  
> Enjoy !
> 
> Edit : I re-writed it because one year after there is so much grammar error and "plot-holes" that I had to do something about it !

_Something's wrong with me_ , thought Junkrat as he jerked vehemently back into the present.  
  
He had bitten the flesh of his thumb too hard and, hissing in discomfort, he shook it before resuming on biting his nails. His nervous gaze jumped from Roadhog to the stretched out horizon, blurred by the radioactive acid rain. Not caring when he started to taste blood on his tongue.  
  
It has been a few days since everything he touched felt somewhat . . . weird. Sharper. If that even made any sense. Vibrating under his flesh palm and fingertips, pulsing in time with his heartbeat and making his skin tingle. He couldn't help but fiddle with his tools, like he was learning the sense of touch again and he would giggle to himself when he found a new crack on his prosthetics. Junkrat twitched uncontrollably at sudden or loud noises. Well, more than usual. Even if it was just Roadhog readjusting his scrap gun with the familiar "clang" of its trigger. Once it was a tiny piece of metal dangling from the biker, bumping non-stop again the sidecar and the sound rang in his head in a way that was as annoying as it was painful. Shaking his head until he couldn't tell what was up and what was down didn't help either. He remember Roadhog's laugh. How he compared him to a wet dog shaking itself to get rid of the water. Oh, talking about dogs, his sens of smell must be playing tricks on him because there was strange smells as well. He never really paid attention to those scents before. They came in waves with the strong wind and, each time it happened, the junker instantaneously stopped dead in his tracks, inhale the air and then shudder in uneasiness. Some of them smelled nice, although some were so heavy it was nauseating and it made his stomach churn, on the verge of puking.  
  
It was the same as when you eat one of those delicious but poisonous centipede. Even boiling them until there is no meat left didn't erase the toxin entirely.  
  
The worst thing was that his sight was fucked up too. The colorless and boring land of the Outback now seemed to be under a giant kaleidoscope : the burning sand changing from gold to silver, the rare vegetation was a thousands shades of green and yellow, the sky as bright as the sun itself. So here he is, sitting silently, looking at the sticks and being almost calm. Calm and silent. And Roadhog doesn't call him out on that, wich is even more disturbing. Today they weren't on the road as he and Roadhog were waiting for that damned acid rain to stop, while taking shelter in a old cabin full of usueless junk and whatnot. On one hand they were used to this weather with or without a roof over their head ! On the other hand it was not enjoyable to wake up the day after with aching skin or blister. If it wasn't both. Ugh. Today was supposed to be the routine between mischievious occupations . . . but no, it was different. Junkrat was staring wide-eyed at the peculiar shining covering the desert's wet soil as it was turning into a palette of gray and yellow. It was winter, but the air was more heavy and hot than it should be in his opinion. He wanted to burrow his nails under his chest and scratch until . . . until what ?  
  
Junkrat made a loud sound of annoyance as he drummed his metal fingers on his peg leg, Roadhog only answering with a sharp menacing grunt.  
  
 _Shut up_. Roight.  
  
 _Stay still_. Roight.  
  
What's wrong with Roadhog, by the way ??  
  
When did all of this really started ? A few days ago ? Hours ? Or is he having one of those weird dreams that were so realistic he couldn't tell if he was awake or not ? He never knew. Let's say it's been four days, even if he's one hundred percent sure it's been decades that all of his senses were abruptly pushed from "malfunctioning" to "full power". It'll save him from another conundrum. He wished to know if it was a good or a bad sign. What if the radiation is finally killing him after twenty years of living in this hell ?  
  
The junker absent-mindedly switched from biting his thumb's nail to scratch the corner of his chapped lips, smearing a little drop of blood on his chin. Will it leave him in a heap of limp aching pain ? Just like that guy in Junkertown that accidently killed himself by mistaking a box of poison bottles with medecines ? Will he, Jamison Fawkes, The Terror of The Outback, die like that ? Convusling and screaming and vomitting and hallucinating and-  
  
" _Wot ?!!_ " Junkrat suddenly shouted as he turned to Roadhog, startling him in the process. " Did ya said somethin' ?? "  
" . . . "  
" Oh . . . Yeah. Heh, my bad ! "  
  
Junkrat gave his habitual high-pitched cackle but it was half-hearted. God damnit, why isn't Roadhog even looking at him when he was talking ?? Did he do something wrong again and this time Roadie decided to punish him with some kind of silent treatment albeit him knowing how much the mad bomber hated that. He ain't gonna lie, this situation is fucking weird.  
The crazy dynamic in their duo, dangerous and perfect in every aspects, fell back to its dreary original roots : Roadhog ignoring him and never uttering a single word and Junkrat being . . . err . . . himself ? Minus the paranoid and borderline behavior during the first months, treating Roadhog like a bomb without a timer. A rabid animal that would snap and tear him apart the second he'll make a faux-pas. Junkrat learned in a year how his partner was indeed that kind of deadly weapon. However Roadhog never turned against him. Not that anyone could ever control this One Apocalypse Man but heh, a man can dream. After all, he was the boss, wasn't he ?  
  
He miss the good times they have lost without any tangible reasons, uncomfortably aware of the empty silence that filled the cabin. Okay, Roadhog was the silent type but . . . not like that. Did it really started days ago ? Who can tell wich day it is without a damn watch or a calendar ! Any other day they would be planning a new glorious heist. The blond would be leaning against his bodyguard's back while fidgeting with his grenade launcher, scribbling on maps and refilling his stash of bombs. Once Junkrat drew cartoonish versions of himself and Roadhog riding a boat on Australia's map. Since Roadhog like it he kept it as a souvenir for when they'll be out of this country. Any other day they would be laughing like idiots because of a few crude jokes about suits. On a very good day Roadhog would have tried to show him how to use a fork properly or any other mundane objects he never had the opportunity to use.  
Now they were sitting wordlessly and not in a peaceful way with at least two meters of dirty wooden floor between them. Sharing an unknown tension in the vacant space. Their shoulders stiff in the waiting. Waiting for what ? It wasn't because they were in a bad mood or something ! They weren't injured. They didn't fight. Roadhog's bike, currently inside the cabin with them, was OK. Plus it's been a while since last time he recklessly got on the older man's nerve and everyone in the Outback knew how that guy had a short-temper.   
Hell, when Roadhog wanted to punch him into the next galaxy or strangle him until he turns entirely blue at least they talked to each other ! More screaming and swearing than talking, yes, but it was normal ! Just two blokes having an adult and civilized conversation !  
  
Junkrat had trouble to fathom how he was feeling right now. _Sad_   ? Not really. _Mad ?_ Heh, always ! _Angry ?_ Maybe. _Anxious ?_ Nah. But he knew for damn sure that he wasn't happy about this. Not at all. This was the beginning of something reaaaally messy.   
  
_Yeah, something's definitely wrong._

\-------------------------

As the sun disappeared behind the skyline, the rain finally stopped. Without a word nor a glance towards his companion, Roadhog took his bike out of the shelter as Junkrat followed him with his own duffle bags. The instant he began to climb into the sidecar, a big and firm hand catched him by his harnest and forcefully got him down. Before the maniac could give a ear shattering insult, Radhog interrupted him.  
  
" Junkrat, we need to talk. "  
" Fuckin' finally mate ! I knew somethin' was wrong with ya, I knew it ! You're always angry and silent lately, I know how ya are Hog but seriously ya were weird as fuck and- "  
  
Roadhog clasped his left hand on the younger man's face, his loud sigh of exasperation sizzling through his mask's filters like water thrown on burning metal.  
  
" _Shut_ ** _UP_**. Listen to me when I'm talking. "  
  
At first, Junkrat groaned unhappily, muttering an inaudible answer against the palm pressed on his mouth and nose. But he relaxed after a whole minute of him blabbering. At last the giant let go of him, not giving attention to his glowing yellow eyes burning holes into his head and the sly smirk on his too thin lips.   
  
" We should go on our own ways for the next month. "  
  
He didn't comprehend exactly what his partner said for a few seconds, although when the information made its way into his distorted mind the crooked smile he arbored slowly fell. He then frowned, his dishevelled eyebrows casting a shadow over his eyes. Something in his look shifted and the spark of amusement changed into dull irritation.  
  
" What ? " The junker spat in a dangerous tone. " Ya finally got tired of me ? "  
" You don't get it, as usual ! " Roadhog growled in response, anger rapidly rising in his muffled voice.  
  
The two of them were standing face to face in defiant and aggressive postures, Roadhog still with his right hand clutching Junkrat's harness in an iron grip. He was easily looming over Junkrat who was straightening his body to its full height with both hands on his hips, but even then his head was only five inch away from the other's chin. They were like two rabid dingos ready to jump on each other's throat. If during the morning it was nothing more than a weird tension and silence between them, here and now that . . . this . . . whatever that is happening to him finally made them snap. A small part of Junkrat's still sane mind was wondering what the fuck was going on. It wasn't like Roadhog to be so aggressive. Nah, that's a filthy lie. Of course he is that kind of agressive man. But even if he was a hot-blooded guy, his rage was always slow to rise like a murderous volcano rumbling in the distance before erutping. And when it happen, there is no survivors. Instantaneous reactions and reckless behavior was more of a rat thing to do.  
Junkrat may look fierce and stubborn at that moment, as he always do, but on the inside he was panicking and he didn't like it. No, more than that, he hated it. It wasn't like when they usually fight, something was wrong. He doesn't understand why they are so angry, so ready to claw at one another's face for literally nothing but here they are. Arguing like that one time he forgot a tiny screw on the bike and it fell into the gas tank. Plus his exagerated senses made him furthermore distressed. He could feel the older's man resentment crawling on his skin and taste it on his tongue, making is stomach shrivel but this time it was an odd warm sensation. The junker knew for a long time, since Day One, that Roadhog is an Alpha. But hell be damned, are all Alphas supposed to smell so good ? Time has slowed down. Or totally stopped. Whatever. His newly acute sight was scanning Roadhog from head to toes, every little details strangely made him feel dizzy and clouded his brain ; a big pulsing vein on a biceps, the broad movement of his hoarse breathing making his leather armor stir against his chest, his scent of gasoline, sweat and musk, his growl-like wheezing, the way he tightened his fist on his harness, a drop of sweat rolling down on dirty skin, hard muscles, firm skin, soft curves, warm flesh, the scent, his scent, his skin, musk, flesh-  
  
" **STOP THAT !!** " Roared Roadhog as he suddenly pushed him away.  
  
The smaller junker took a few step back, stumbling on his prosthethic leg, shaking his head and blinking furiously. His nose was itching like he was about to sneeze because of the stiffling odor of musk and he coughed several time. He haven't noticed his trance-like state of mind, somewhat embarassed by the alien thoughts that swarmed inside his head. He'll be lying if he said that Roadhog wasn't a fine bloke in his own taste. In fact, his bodyguard met easily all of his fantasy standards and more than once he tried to take a peak when Roadhog would take off his clothes and armor to scrub himself with some rag or sand. But he never was attracted to him . . . like that. Wait, what he was doing isn't wrong, is it ? Heck, he didn't do anything wrong ! He even had a good behavior at the time ! And now he's being screamed at just because he kind of checked him out ?? Who wouldn't do that ?! That fact only spurred his anger on.  
  
" WHY ARE YA SCREAMIN' AT ME ?! I'M DOING NOTHIN' YA BIG BASTARD ! "  
" STOP LYING YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT ! "  
" I'M NO BRAT ! AND WHAT THE FUCK ARE YA TALKIN' ABOUT ??! "  
" I CAN SMELL YOU FOR TWO DAYS AND YOU FUCKING REEK ! "  
  
All the indignation and frustration for being shouted at came to a sudden stop at that last confusing sentence, Roadhog breathing heavily in front of him. Roadhog was enraged because he . . . smell bad ? But he always smells like a garbage can on fire, so why is it such a big deal now ?! Maybe he finally worned-out his poor old Hog down to the bone. With all his crazy shenanigans, the heist done on a whim, his non-stop blabbering and whining . . . no wonder why he is going insane ! Even junkers as mean as Roadhog needs some vacations. Seriously, as soon as they get out of Australia and get a fuck ton of money, he is going to buy the most luxurious trip to New-Zealand or Hawaï asap !  
  
Junkrat threw both of his arms in the air with a look of bewilderment on his face.  
  
" I took a bath three month ago in Junkertown ! "  
  
Roadhog stood immobile. Slowly, he seemed to calm down from his previous violent attitude as he stared down at Junkrat, tilting slightly his head as if pondering something. The trace of his outburst is still lingering in the air as he opened and closed his hands in time with his breathing. Open. Close. Breath. Open. Close. Breath. Finally, he tightened his hands into fists again, followed by a rough groand of aggravation.   
  
" Wot ? Ya want me to brush me teeth too ?! Here, let me pull of bathtub outta my ass- "  
" Don't you know what is happening to you ? "  
  
The blonde swiftly wet his thin lips, a heavy stone putting all of its weight on his empty stomach and guts as he took another step back, only to be met with the dusty cabin's wall against his back. He tried to laugh with confidence at how absurd Roadhog's question was, however the only sound coming out of his mouth was a strangled croak. He wasn't sick. He. Wasn't. Sick ! Heh, of course he is, with all the radiation poisoning, but he wasn't on the brink of death. He can still run, fight and kick a thousand asses if he wanted to ! He could blow up an entire town if he tried and that's not the behavior of someone who's currently dying ! Oh, wait a tick, who's talking about dying and all that bullshit ?! Roadhog know what to do ! He is a man of experience, he always knew what to do ! Often than not he saved both of their asses !  
Deep inside of him there was this fearful thought wich he would never admit out loud to anyone, not even himself. What if Roadhog decided to leave him, treasure or not, and put an end to their duo ? What will become of the Rat without his Boar ? He would have to go back to his lonesome wandering through the Outback's sticks, the stressful scavenging of forgotten wrecking yard and sleepless nights. After such a fantastic partnership he didn't think he could bear the solitude again. Or never trust someone like he trusted him. There was a Before and After Roadhog in his life. Before, he never knew the comforting presence of a companion you know you are safe with, someone that genuinely appreciated his existence even if he was a royal pain in the arse. And the contrary was true too ! He would jump inside a building on fire full of omnics if his best guy was trapped in it. He had a nightmare like that once about his stash of bombs that . . . he didn't want to think about that right now.  
  
" Come on Roadie, I'm foine! " Junkrat laughed with a toothy grin, trying to sound convincing.  
" Junkrat. "  
" _I'M FINE !_ "  
  
Roadhog deeply exhaled and crossed his arms, his shoulders hunching forwards. Junkrat could still sense his irritation so he crossed his arms too, just to show that he was greatly offended by his shitty attitude towards him. This giant cunt. Always acting like he didn't know shit. And right now it was too much for his liking. The junker gritted his teeth, pocking accusingly at the stomach of his bodyguard with a mettalic index.  
  
" Listen to me here- "  
" Junkrat. You're an Omega. You're having a cycle of heat. " Roadhog said bluntly.  
  
The angry scowl on the blonde's features disappeared. His burning eyes were jumping from one blurry lense to the other in a panicked turmoil, searching for lies (or worse, the truth) on his partner's hidden mug. Then the situation hit him at full force and he couldn't breathe anymore, feeling like a drowing man. The stones in his guts turned ice cold and it burned everything it touched in his insides.  
  
It make so much sense now . . .  
  
No. It can't be. He is not an Omega. He is a Beta. He always was a Beta. He never . . . He never had . . . Junkrat buried hastly his hands in his tousled and half-burnt hair, gasping a few shaking swears under his breath. Roadhog only answer him with a low hum. It never happened to him. It shouldn't happen to him. To them. He always thought he was a Beta, that he escaped from this. He always thought he was part of the lucky ones who were fucked up enough by the radiation so they couldn't reproduce or have their heat. But he was wrong. So, so wrong. Why now ?? Why here ?? What triggered his heat ?? What should he do ?? What should they do ?? He didn't notice the pain in his scalp as he grabbed his head with nearly all of his strenght, dirty nails piercing skin and drawing blood. Until a pair of big hands took his wrists and pulled on his arms to make him let go.  
  
" We're dead !! " Junkrat shrieked loudly, starting to struggle widly and trashing against his grip. " We're walkin' corpses !! "  
" Calm down. "  
" How can ya tell me to calm the fuck down ?! HOW ?! We're screwed !! I'm gettin' us dead !! We don't have food !! We don't have water !! What if some fuckers found me ?? We can't fight if I'm . . . I'm . . . _FOICKIN' HELL !!!_ "  
  
This last scream was muffled by Roadhog's belly when he unceremoniously faceplanted on his stomach, quitting his useless struggle as he completly gave up and surrendered. It's not like he had the choice. His approaching heat was inevitable and the whole idea made him nauseous. The medication created to lessen the effects of a heat or a rut can only be purchased in those big, clean, civilized countries where the " _good people_ " ate them like candies every day while folks like him have to suffer in this shithole. The Omegas who lives here gets raped and die ! Or if they're unlucky enough to still be alive after mating, they give birth to fetuses or mutated babies. Even in Junkertown's medicine and drug traffic they couldn't be found anywhere and if a junker got his hands on them he would keep it to himself. Junkrat have to go through his first heat without any help and totally unprepared.   
  
It terrified him.  
More than Australia's deadly heatwaves in summer. More than the gangrene that was so easy to catch because of one unwashed wound. He never knew how to cope with a heat for the reason that nobody told him how to do so. How bad it'll affect him. How his own body and mind will react. The only thing he knew was from crude jokes or rumors : it was painfull as fuck, you're horny all the time and a "normal" cycle last one month. One week getting sick and full of hormones. Two or three days of your pheromones attracting a potential mate. One week of wild fucking and then . . . He tried to push the word "pregnancy" out of his mind but to no avail. A colds shiver ran on his scrawny back. What should he do ?? What should they . . . wait a minute . . . He wasn't alone. That's right.  
  
A slight smirk appeared on the mad junker's lips as he chuckled, his mood lightning a little as a debut of a plan started to take place in his brain. At last something that fit in their routine : Junkrat fuck up, they have a fight, Roadhog saves the day, they make peace, everything is good and then you repeat the process.  
  
" . . . Alright ? " The elder asked when his breathing came back to normal.  
" Ugh! " Junkrat groaned as he tried to push his face further in. " Ya think we can do somethin' to strenghten this slum ? "  
" . . . Yeah. " Roadhog agreed after a quick glance at the shelter.  
  
There was the silence again but now that he could put his finger on the problem that made a dent in their flawless partnership, deal with it and possibly have Roadhog at his side to help him with this bullshit . . . It was nice. Junkrat giggled, and this time it was honest. Everything was falling back into place. They are partners again. It was good. It felt normal. It was-  
  
" Rat. Stop licking me."  
  
Junkrat screamed right away like a banshee as he jolted aside from the massive tattooed stomach, Roadhog letting go of his wrists with a mean and hoarse laugh. He made a grotesque spectacle of wiping his tongue on the back of his flesh hand and furiously spitting on the ground. However, the redness of his face, neck and shoulder, without mentioning the way he sucked on his own tongue with an absent-minded look told everything . . .   
  
  
\---  
  
  
" Annd . . . . . . done ! "  
  
With a last twirl of his screwdriver, Junkrat took a step back, admiring his handiwork. The two small windows were blocked with metal junk, wood and pieces of the owner's old mecanic furnitures. Then he jammed them with his explosives and shrapnel. Same thing with the door but with an ingenious mechanism working like a trapped lock. Nothing could enter here without his consent when he'll be . . . well . . . busy.  
  
It's been at least three hours since they mutually agreed that Roadhog would stay to guard the place and take care of his sickness, but they'll act like they're just going to prepare for a siege, like nothing is actually happening to one of them. Something that was surely not a heat. Junkrat was turning a decrepit shed into a deadly bunker and he won't lie, he was pretty proud of himself here ! Roadhog was gone for the moment, hunting for food. Mostly bugs but if they were lucky he would come back with some lizards or even a dog ! To think that his own body was betraying him made Junkrat nervous like a stray cat. What can he do if he can't even trust himself ?!?!  
  
" Fuck this. " The junker said without even realizing he was talking out loud.  
  
He nodded to himself. He can do this. He was Jamison Fawkes, for fuck sake ! He is stronger than the radiation trying to kill him every day, smarter than all the junkers in this hell of a land and meaner than the Outback itself ! He was as dangerous as Roadhog, the One Man Apocalypse ! He witnessed and lived more horrifying stuff than a stupid heat ! Everyone went through this shit, so why not him ?! He survived everything that has been thrown at him ! He survived his own bombs, god damn it ! Twice ! And what did he do ? He looked at the Grim Reaper dead in the eyes, told him to fuck off and build his own limbs !  
Junkrat started to whistle joyfully, now full of positive thoughts, as he sat down in front of the shed's open door. Scrutinizing the horizon. Keeping watch for ennemies or for Roadhog.   
  
Not knowing what was really coming for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of what's going to be a porn-with-a-plot-story about Junkrat's first heat !  
> 


End file.
